Oh My, It's Hot

Greetings from beautiful downtown Seligman, Arizona, on Historic Route 66, home of the Roadkill Cafe and some really beautiful clouds. I wouldn't be surprised to have the first rain I've experienced since June in Wyoming (in fact, here it comes now).

It's 98 degrees in the shade but I don't care, 'cause I got air conditioning--woohoo--and all the electricity and water my little heart desires. I am a happy camper!

My Las Vegas contact didn't work out: no electricity and temps in triple digits so I had to leave early to find a place where I could run the A/C. Here's my favorite photo from Vegas (click to enlarge to full effect).

What you see here, among other things, is the base of a replica of the Eiffel Tower at the Paris Casino, and also an old-world fountain, packed cheek by jowl with other casinos shaped like Greek temples, the New York skyline, the Taj Mahal and other unbelievably tacky things. Check out the number of people on the streets; I think you can tell how hot it is. I drove down the strip and took photos from inside Michelle. Just the thought of trying to find parking and then being out in all that made me sweat (don't believe what you hear about "dry heat"). Been to Las Vegas, don't need to go again.

But I'm supposed to be filling you in on San Francisco, which wasn't hot (I just missed a one-day heat wave, fortunately), and has great public transit so it was easy to see the sights.

Before that, however, there were the Biting Ants of Oakland! OMG, I was so freaked I didn't even think to take photos; all I wanted to do was get the little buggers out of my space! The first day I found a couple inside: no big deal. The next morning one was in my bed and it bit me: still no biggie--one little ant. One day and several bites later I discovered they were coming from the garbage cans I was parked next to (duh) and I realized that squishing them one by one was not going to work; they were in my food boxes and I needed poison, which I hate to use, but I had no choice. The really freaky part was when I saw some crawling on my little Christmas Cactus. Upon closer inspection, the plant was teeming with them, and when I picked up the inner pot and look into the outer pot, it was like something out of science fiction: I've never seen so many ants; the pot was black with them, all running around as fast as their little ant legs would carry them, shouting, "Run for your lives!" They died a horrible death and I felt bad and triumphant at the same time: "Leiningen" writ small.

Here's my favorite shot from my neighborhood walk in Oakland.

This is the tallest corn I've ever seen, and growing in the city! I grew up in Iowa and this stuff made Iowa corn look stunted.

The next day it got really hot in Oakland and since I didn't have electricity, I headed to San Francisco. I was unable to find a contact who had a driveway, SF being what it is, but an RVing Women contact led me to free parking on the street, right on the ocean, on a busline that went downtown and transferred to wherever I wanted to go: all for $2 each way. It had a great time, and because I was living on the cheap I blew $50 on a second balcony ticket to see "Wicked."


Here's one of my favorite SF photos, taken in The Castro; those ladies are no ladies.

Here's another: a "Lila's-eye view" of a crowded Chinatown bus. And no, I was not holding the camera above my head (well maybe just a bit); I was hanging onto a strap, the only 5'10" Anglo on the bus.

From San Francisco I drove to Sacramento for my souvenir Capitol Building postcard (and a tour: The Governator was out); then to Lake Tahoe where I camped in a state park, again without electricity so I couldn't blog; then to Carson City, Nevada, for my souvenir postcard of the Capitol Building (it was Saturday: no tour); then to an overnight stop in Hawthorne, NV, in the parking lot of the El Capitan Resort and Casino (again, no electricity); and finally over Hoover Dam and into Arizona.

It will take the rest of the day, practically, to get a new slide show up and running, and you may not be able to see it until tomorrow, but it's coming. Thanks for sticking around.

Oh, I've also included the following tiny pile of self-absorbed drivel that I wrote longhand during my stay at Lake Tahoe Thursday and Friday of the Labor Day weekend. It's not pretty, but if you want to know what was going on with me then, you can read it when you have absolutely NOTHING ELSE to do. Rest assured, I am way over it, thanks to Eckhart on CD through most of my journey from Lake Tahoe to Seligman.

It’s Labor Day weekend, Friday to be exact, and I’m here in the William Kent Campground for the second night. I’ve been practically alone all day and I guess I thought I would be until my stay is over tomorrow at noon. But lo and behold, the campers are here. Glory be, I think, for now I won’t be alone on Labor Day. Alone on Labor Day, I’m thinking now, how bad can that be? Well, I’ll tell you how bad: it’s the families and their campfires and kids shouting and parents running to and fro carrying the camping gear and the dinner fixin’s and so I go outside with my wine and cheese and crackers I bought from the little store up the road and I think I’ll just watch the action. But I can’t really see very well from this vantage point so I sip my wine and eat my crackers and cheese and read my book. I’m reading ‘Tis by Frank McCourt. It’s the sequel to his Pulitzer-Prize-winning Angela’s Ashes, and in this book he has come back to New York City from Limerick, Ireland, and it’s Christmas. I’ve been in New York City at Christmas so I know what it’s like: it’s fucking gorgeous is what it is. And there’s the hustle and bustle of shopping and visiting friends and family and eating and drinking and parties and presents and family. Only Frank doesn’t have any family and he’s telling about going to mass on Christmas Day and being kicked out of the pew of some rich family by a guy in striped pants and all of a sudden I can’t stand it another minute. I look around at the families enjoying their camping escapade and I want to cry because I remember those camping trips with my daughter and that time is gone. I would call my daughter and tell her how much I miss those camping trips but she’s too busy working (nurses work Labor Day weekend, you know) and she wouldn’t even pick up the fucking phone. So here I am in my little home on wheels pining for days gone by and getting all weepy. I don’t know how much longer I can do this alone. Maybe it’s time for that dog. For sure I should not have had that second glass of wine. And to top it all off I have no fucking electricity so I can’t even watch a movie. I should get the generator fixed but even if I did I’d feel like a fool running it with all these tent campers about. I should go for a walk…

So I walked a big loop to see if I could find someone to take me in and share their campfire. I walked by cars with tents and trucks with campers and people with the kids having dinner or finished, and one group that was obviously a middle-aged couple and someone’s mother, playing cards. I almost stopped but they were so engrossed in their game I didn’t want to interrupt. They were the most likely hosts and so I came home. I noticed that some people in campers were inside like I tend to be most of the time. I think we’ve lost that camping feeling. I know I have but for me I think it’s mostly because I live in here too. Most folks probably wouldn’t think of building a fire in their backyard so they could get that camping feeling, although I do know some people who have fire pits.

So I am going to eat chocolates and read Frank McCourt and hope I don’t get the woozies again. Maybe I should read a different book…

So Peaceful...

Today I explored the woods around my host's home, along a path that led to an old logging road. The sun was out, for a change, and some blue sky showed through the cloud cover. When I returned I finally remembered to ask about the tree with the red, peeling bark and was told that it is Manzanita. There's nothing like it in the east. (Click on the photo to see it larger.)












Then I spent about an hour and a half watching videos of Eckhart Tolle and his partner Kim Eng. Because I am a "member" of Eckhart Tolle TV and perhaps you are not, you may not be able to open this link. But if you can, you will discover what I have been trying to convey about how living in the NOW can change your life. This video is the best explanation I have seen yet, and it's only an hour long. There are other, smaller, segments available on this link that are useful as well (in the right sidebar), especially the one at the bottom of the list, where Kim Eng talks about relationship, and specifically her relationship with Eckhart.

If you have already read The Power of Now, and especially A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose, the video will be helpful in "bringing it home" to you, perhaps in a more meaningful way than through just reading the books. I have watched many Eckhart videos and this one is the best. I hope you can see it and that it will have meaning for you.

If you can't open it, and you are interested in what it contains, please let me know and I will see if it can be accessed without paying the fee. I can certainly point you to other videos that are shorter and don't require membership.

Namaste.

Finding God

If you don't find God in the next person you meet, it's a waste of time looking for him further.
- Mohandas K. Gandhi



If you don't know much about Gandhi I highly recommend any biography and also his autobiography The Story of My Experiments with Truth, in which he says, "I must reduce myself to zero. So long as a man does not of his own free will put himself last among his fellow creatures, there is no salvation for him. Ahimsa is the farthest limit of humility." Ahimsa is pure selfless love for every human being, and indeed for every living creature. It is non-injury in mind, word and deed.

Eckhard Tolle might say Gandhi was referring to the release of the egoic mind, which is that voice in the head, the thought process that continually reminds us that we are superior to others: smarter, better looking, more creative, more loving, more spiritual (you see where thinking can lead?). He says Descartes got it wrong: I Am despite the fact that I think; or, put another way, I Am only when I don't think.

Eckhart interprets Jesus' admonition to "Love your neighbor as yourself," literally. In other words, Jesus didn't mean love your neighbor as you love yourself; he meant love him because he is yourself. Your neighbor--and you--are merely the form that Consciousness/Essence/Being/Spirit/Presence/God has taken in this moment, in this blink of the cosmic eye. We are all merely the life force of the universe in human form.

By the way, if you identify as Christian--or ever did--Tolle draws comparisons with Jesus' teachings throughout his own teachings in a way that has re-opened my mind to true Christianity after many years of disappointment with the religion of my youth. I had painted Christianity with the same broad brush I used on all Christians; not that I wasn't aware of my prejudice, I just didn't know how to give it up. Reading Tolle has been worth my time if for no other reason than this.

Peace.

It's the Now Again

The high note is not the only thing.
- Placido Domingo

If you're reading this on Facebook, I've included the Daily Peace Quote above, there being no sidebar on FB, because the wise words of P. Domingo are the text for today's "homilita" (that's Spanglish).

When I began my journey of discovery a year ago this month, I decided I would blog for all those folks who kept saying, "Now you keep in touch, y' hear." (That's how they talk in North Carolina, after which they say, "C'mere and let me hug yer neck.") I finally summoned the nerve to write my first post in September. It contained, among other random yet oh, so interesting ruminations, the question of what I would do to make the world a better place while enjoying the selfish pleasures of retirement.

Here's the simple truth about that: making the world a better place is not only about the world, it's about me and what I need to feel good about myself. Because making the world a better place comes with recognition for my accomplishment and for me, Recognition=Contentment.

What I have learned, with the help of Eckhart Tolle, is that learning to be in the Present is the greatest accomplishment of my life, and that that alone will help the world more than all the committees, marches, drives, campaigns, donations of time and talent, petitions, solicitations, letters and phone calls combined. And what's more, I don't need to be recognized by anyone but myself in order to be contented. If you don't believe me, read A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose, and try it for yourself. Or ask Oprah.

By the way, Eckhart has a new TV series you can subscribe to online (for a fee) at http://www.eckharttolletv.com/. If you have never seen or heard him, you may be surprised by this little beige, unprepossessing man with the British/German accent and the subtle sense of humor. He lives near here, in fact, in Vancouver, BC. Here's a little YouTube sample for you to try: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwr4zCuEmw0, which is taken from a PBS show and is introduced by two women who set it up for you.

Singer/songwriter Bill Staines reiterates what Mr. Domingo says:

All God's critters got a place in the choir
Some sing low, some sing higher
Some sing out loud on the telephone wire
And some just clap their hands, or paws
Or anything they got.

What is the sound of one bee clapping?

Sharing

The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery.- Mark Van Doren


Before my sister reminds me that I haven't updated my blog, here are a few words for Tuesday, May whatever, 2009.

A couple of things have happened, or are scheduled to happen, that are worth mentioning. One is that I've been invited to provide a silent auction item for the National Women's Music Festival, so I'm going giving a gift certificate for a pet portrait. I won't be in Wisconsin in July but thanks to the magic of the internet I can still participate and get some free publicity. Sounds like fun, huh?

I guess the thing I'm most excited about is that I will be a presenter at the 2009 RVing Women Annual Convention in San Antonio. Of course, I didn't do anything spectacular in order to be invited to lead a workshop, like discover a cure for the uncontrollable urge to sit around and watch Turner Classic Movies all day (not something I myself suffer from but maybe you do). The way one is chosen for this great honor is merely to fill out an application. Actually, I'm doing two sessions: Tai Chi for Back & Balance, and Whole-group Book Discussion: A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose by Eckhart Tolle.

I learned Tai Chi from a wonderful teacher in Asheville, Crayton Bedford. He has spent many years doing Tai Chi and I actually have the audacity to believe I can teach it after taking one course. Well, that's what trainers do, and since I'm a trained trainer (ret.), I feel I can teach what little I know. The few moves I learned from Crayton have certainly helped me, so why not pass it along in a small way?

As for the Eckhart Tolle session, the same applies. I certainly don't claim to be any kind of expert but I thought a book discussion would be a good way to encourage more people to stop thinking and connect with the Universal Consciousness. I'm going to divide the class into small groups so that everyone gets an opportunity to talk about the concepts in the book.

Of course, my ulterior motive in leading workshops is meeting RVing women more easily. There's nothing like being the center of attention for making new friends. I've discovered that being depressed in places where I used to be happy has a lot to do with not being connected with my old friends any more. It's actually easier to be content with the nomad life in places I've never been, where there are no memories of past good times. Making new memories is better than pining away over the old ones.

The best part of being in Minneapolis has been the discovery of Veterans Memorial Park, where I do my daily walk. Last week I met a man on the walking path who was taking photos of birds. He said there was no better place in the entire twin cities metro area for birding. What luck! He had a list of at least 50 species that he had seen that day, and it wasn't even noon yet! Besides the usual suspects (Cardinals, Sparrows, etc.) I've seen Great Blue Heron, Green Heron, Great Egret, Red-winged Blackbird, Baltimore Oriole, Yellow-rumped Warbler, and several other species.

Enough about birds. Bringing Up Baby is over and The Philadelphia Story just came on so I gotta go. It's a Katharine Hepburn & Cary Grant festival!

Good Day, Sunshine

Much better today. It's still a bit nippy but the sun is out and I walked a new route today that took me past one of my favorite places: Perkins Restaurant. It's a great place for cheap breakfast (and a cat-head-sized muffin to go) and it brings back happy memories, too: my daughter Liz is particularly fond of their Eggs Benedict. We have often wondered why, since Perkins is headquartered in Memphis, they haven't opened any restaurants in North Carolina, right next door to Tennessee. It's probably just as well, my willpower being what it is.

Then, while sitting still, next to a window, I spotted a Yellow-rumped Warbler in a bare shrub (if it had been leafed out I might have missed it). Now, if you're a warbler snob I'm sure you've already been out looking for these, and no doubt found them, too. But I was three feet from one, so there.

And that's not all. They don't call Minnesota "The Land of 10,000 Lakes" for nothing. Do you have one in your neighborhood? How about several, within walking distance?

That's Diamond Lake. I can also walk to Lake Nokomis (you know, Hiawatha's mom, who had a wigwam "by the shores of Gitche Gumee") and several others. And the forsythia are still in bloom here, so that's a treat, along with the tulips. What a lot to be thankful for indeed.

And something else has happened to brighten my day. I have been accepted as a presenter for the RVing Women National Rally in San Antonio, in October. I will be leading a discussion of A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle! I'm so excited! This is such a great opportunity to meet other women who are already interested in the work, and to help others to awaken to their primary purpose in life, which is, according to Eckhart, simply to awaken, to become one with the collective consciousness of the Universe, so that together we can help to bring about world peace: a New Earth. Perhaps some day I will learn how to embed a few minutes of Eckhart video in a post. Meantime, if you don't know what he looks and sounds like, but you would like to, click here.

Lost

Peace is not merely a distant goal that we seek, but the means by which we arrive at that goal.

-Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

(As I read this post now, I find some formatting issues that I am unable to resolve. Sorry, you're on your own.)

I have the blues. This is unusual for me and it makes me want to figure out why it's happening so I can make it go away. Is it the rain, and the 45-degree temperature, and the bare Minnesota trees (just when Spring was really showing herself so gloriously in Memphis)?

Rita has left on a family trip to New York City so yesterday I drove her car to all the places I lived from 1991-1997, including a house I owned and lived in with my teen-aged daughter, a huge house that Rita and I shared with 3 other women, and the duplex she and I shared after that, right before we moved to Asheville. It made me sad, and upon examination, all I can come up with to explain the sadness (which even now is bringing tears to my eyes) is:

--I am longing for good times past

--I am regretting bad times past

--I want to return to a time of connectedness with another that felt good

--I remember a time of connectedness with another that felt bad

--I'm lonely

--It's just the weather and I'll feel great as soon as the sun returns

I hear Eckhart telling me that I can stop all of this bad feeling if I stop thinking about it and just breathe. But I don't want to. What is this need to wallow in sadness? It's sick. Or just human, I suppose.

Here's a funny story that happened yesterday, maybe telling it will help me feel better. I drove to Hopkins, a suburb of Minneapolis where I owned a home and where my daughter and I had some really good times. She was in 8th or 9th grade, old enough to be good company, and we used to have dinner at the restaurant connected to a locally-owned grocery store called Lund's. One of my favorite dishes was their Chicken Chili, which has a cream-soup base rather than the usual tomato base. We both liked their popovers, which you could get as a bread choice with any meal.

After driving by my house, I was looking forward to a late lunch at Lund's, and hoping that they still had some of the old menus choices available. I parked my car, and as I approached the restaurant I could tell that it was closed. The sign said "New Hours: Monday-Sunday, 6 a.m. - 2 p.m." It was 3:00. Yet another disappointment to add to my melancholy.

I decided to check out the grocery store for something from the deli, and while I was getting my Death by Chocolate Brownie, the woman who waited on me said the restaurant had had to shorten their hours because of the economy. (I am just realizing as I write this that not getting chicken chili and a popover has been the single most personally identifiable effect of the worldwide economic crisis. Poor me.)

On the way to the checkout, I remembered how much I used to like the wild rice soup with ham made by another local grocery chain and sold frozen, so I asked a passing employee if he could direct me to the Byerly's frozen soups. He seemed a little confused so I repeated my request, "You know, the frozen Byerly's soups?"

"Oh," he said. "I thought you said barley soup."

I had to laugh when I realized, as I followed him to the frozen foods, that it was my North Carolina accent that had confused him. How ironic, since my Memphis brother had chided me not two weeks earlier for using the Minnesota long "o" when saying the word "you."

Okay, that didn't help.

Perhaps this melancholy stems from the same kind of disappointment that I experienced while in Houston: there's so much of this place that I don't remember. It's like I never lived here. (Here come the tears again; this must be it.) What is this about? Fear of change? Fear of forgetfulness? Fear of anonymity? Longing for connection to place and then disappointment when the place doesn't live up to expectations?

I had a dream last night that is typical for me; I've had it for years. I am in a familiar place but when I turn the corner, or enter a building, or look for whatever it is that I know to be in a certain place, it isn't there. The familiar has become totally unfamiliar and I search in vain for whatever it is that I expect to see.

I had expected that being in my old haunts would be a great homecoming experience. Instead, I feel alienated. Like I don't belong anymore. Anywhere. Perhaps these tears just need to come and I need to let them flow. After that, I'm going to let it all go.

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a Right Spirit within me. Cast me not away from thy Presence. And take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Restore unto me the Joy of thy Salvation and uphold me with thy Free Spirit. Amen. Or something like that...

Day Nine?

Oh yes, Day 9 of 37. It went, never to be seen again. And I went to hear my sister and the Lindenwood Christian Church choir (one of the best in the city) sing Handel, always a favorite of mine. Then we had a lovely lunch with a friend and attended a play, Moonlight and Magnolias, a comedy. I fixed one of my favorite meals, from the old Weight Watchers Cookbook: Thai Marinated Steak (for my meat-eating brother-in-law), with a marinade made up of lime juice, cilantro, jalapeno, green onion, soy sauce and garlic--yum.



I did "not doing" in a lovely sanctuary surrounded by colorful stained glass and people who, like me, were there to find their own inner peace. It was Palm Sunday and the children's choir carried palm fronds and made me cry (as usual when I see children singing).

As I participated in the service I tried to focus on the Jesus I know, who is a different person than the one I knew as a child and as a young adult, a different one from the Jesus the minister talked about. I took the bread and wine that was offered, to be polite, but I didn't think of it as the body and blood. I thought of what Gandhi said: "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”

I also thought of what Eckhart says of Jesus: "Jesus on the cross said it all when He says, 'Forgive them for they know not what they do.' Which means they are unconscious. So when you realize that you naturally forgive." That is what I did yesterday morning, while music swelled and the prayers went up.

Don't Just Do Something, Sit There

As you may know by now, I am a big fan of Patti Digh, her book, Life Is A Verb, and her blog, 37 Days. I admire her so much that when she suggests that we all do something, whatever it might be, I try to do it.

Her latest idea is that we should all pick one thing to do just for ourselves, and make a commitment to ourselves to do that thing every day for 37 days. I've been struggling to decide what that thing is, and it's already Day Four.

See, I already do just about everything for myself that I can possibly do. I wanted to live a simple, stress-free life, so I retired early and started living in a 19-foot motorhome. I wanted to see the country before I got too old to drive comfortably and that's what I'm doing. I wanted to work for peace in the world so that I could feel that I had contributed something important, which led to my discovery of Eckhart Tolle, who told me that the best way I can contribute to peace in the world is to stop thinking and align my consciousness with the collective consciousness of the universe. Aha! I have been trying to decide what to do when what I really wanted/needed to do was...are you ready?...absolutely nothing. That includes absolutely not thinking about what I want/need to do.

So I laid back on my comfy cushions and looked out the window, something I do several times a day already. Then I looked out the opposite window, and out the roof window. And while I was looking at the redbud and my sister's house and the trees, I stopped thinking about what I want to do for myself for 37 days and became one with all that is.

And then I realized that what I want to do for myself is just that, more often, and that I don't have to "meditate" in the traditional sense in order to do it. I just need to stop thinking and sit here. I don't even have to close my eyes; in fact, keeping them open, looking at all that is, seems to work better for me than closing them. I can keep the thoughts at bay more easily if I have something to look at (as long as I don't think about it, don't name it). I don't need a special mat, or special clothes, or a special posture, or special words. Oh heavenly relief.

So now I will set aside two specific times for not doing. In the morning, before I roll out of my bunk, I'll raise the curtain and look out at the fresh new morning and the big magnolia over my head. At night I'll go outside and look up at the stars, or the moon, or the clouds, and listen to the night sounds.

Hey, you know, if you do "not doing," too, we'll have world peace that much sooner. Just slip into the stream of consciousness, get on the frequency, ride the wave (to mix a triple metaphor). Oh my, what peace.

Are You Aware? Yes, You Are!

Awareness is our true self; it's what we are. So we don't have to try to develop awareness; we simply need to notice how we block awareness with our thoughts, our fantasies, our opinions, and our judgments. We're either in awareness, which is our natural state, or we're doing something else.- Joko Beck

Do you subscribe to the Daily Peace Quote? Oh, you must. The address is http://www.livingcompassion.org/. Every day you will receive a wonderful quote, some more wonderful than others, like the one above. I have a special folder in my "saved" emails for the ones that really hit me between the eyes, and I go back and look at them now and then. Sometimes I use one for the signature line on my email. My current email signature is a quote from that old curmudgeon H. L. Mencken: We are here and it is now. Further than that, all human knowledge is moonshine.

But let's get back to Joko Beck, whose full name is Charlotte Joko Beck (born 1917 and still living, in Prescott, AZ), who is a Zen teacher and the author of the books Everyday Zen: Love and Work and Nothing Special: Living Zen. Once again we are told that we already have within us everything we need in order to be fully conscious, fully present as Eckhart says. All we have to do is stop thinking about everything else and there it is: inner peace.

I had an opportunity to practice today while doing my volunteer assignment. Second Harvest is getting ready to do a Hunger Survey to find out more about their clients, the people who are served by the 200 agencies who help Second Harvest distribute food. As an incentive for the clients to complete the multi-page survey, each one will be given a $15 VISA card. My job was to open the 500 envelopes containing the cards, detach the cards from the printed material, recycle the paper and reinsert the cards into the envelopes in number order. It took nearly four hours, and I did it by myself, with no one around to talk to, not even a radio playing to relieve the tedium. I thought, what a great opportunity: four hours with nothing to think about. It wasn't the same as painting furniture or drawing (two things that never fail to engage me so fully that I forget to eat) but, amazingly, I was able to focus on the task and not think about what I would do afterward, or what I did earlier, or where I would go to dump the holding tanks in the RV, buy gasoline, do laundry and get a shower (which are the things that have been on my mind lately).

Later I went to the warehouse to help with food packing and came upon a group of adults from The Arc, the organization formerly known as ARC (Association for Retarded Citizens). They were packing "backpacks," which are bags of food for kids to take home from school on the weekends.

The bags include non-perishable, ready-to-eat foods such as Spaghetti-Os, pudding, snack crackers, fruit cocktail, etc., and they go home with children who usually get their daily breakfast and lunch at school through the free/reduced-price meal program. I have been aware of the school program for years, having worked in a school district where 50% of the kids are served by it, but I never stopped to think what those children ate on the weekends.

Anyway, here were these developmentally disabled adults packing bags of food, and I thought to myself that if anyone is probably conscious most of the time, it might be these people. They certainly seem to be living in the moment.

So I've had many reminders today that I have within me the ability to be at peace any time I choose to be. Incredible, isn't it? And if I can do it, you can do it. And everyone else can do it, too, all over the world. Stop thinking. Do it now.

The Ghost of Christmas Past

It's now Saturday, December 13. Time I finished the post I started nearly a week ago.

I've been visiting friends and relatives in Florida since the week of Thanksgiving, and since they attend church, I have been joining them, mainly for something to do and to "be folks," you know? At least, that's how it started out. But I've discovered that my study of Eckhart Tolle's writings has given me a new perspective on the sayings of Jesus, and that being immersed in Christian doctrine of the Presbyterian variety on Sunday morning (no pun intended, since Presbyterians don't immerse, they just sprinkle) has become less...well..."doctrinaire" when filtered through the lens of my new spiritual understanding.

A couple weeks ago I joined my cousin Peggy at her church in Tampa and even sang in her choir. I've been a choral singer nearly all my life until the last few years. It was the first Sunday in Advent, the first of four Sundays leading to Christmas, so even though the tree was not up yet, the Advent wreath of evergreens with purple, pink and white candles was on display, and the Christmas spirit that Walmart has been trying to instill since the day after Halloween finally was validated in the church sanctuary. A child was chosen to light the first purple candle and as I watched and listened to the familiar words, I harkened back to days of yore (about 1958) when I and my fellow girls' junior choir members sat together in church in our blue robes and I believed that Jesus was the son of God.

I don't remember the title of the minister's sermon, but he held my attention when he recalled his experience of being on retreat at a monastery just before Advent a few years ago. He said he had arrived for the retreat with his usual collection of essential communication devices: cell phone, laptop computer and Blackberry, intent on keeping up with his work while becoming spiritually renewed. He described how he and his fellow attendees did everything the monks did every day, including retiring at 8 p.m. and rising at 4 a.m., prayers, meals, church services and long periods of silence. It was during the silences that he answered e-mails and kept up with correspondence.

The minister then recounted his meeting with the director of the monastery, an audience that all attendees were given during their week-long stay. When his host asked how he was enjoying the retreat, he confessed to the monk that he felt he was not "getting it," that even though he was doing everything the monks did, he was not having the kind of spiritual experience he had expected to have.

"Well, duh," I said to myself. "This comes under the heading of, 'I don't believe I'd have told that.'" (I was feeling rather self-satisfied in my new-found knowledge of being in the stillness.) "Anybody should have known that," I thought.

My very next thought was, "See how quick you are to judge?" Sometimes I wonder if there is any hope for me at all, ever. And don't ask how the "no complaining/gossiping/whining" thing is going. "Today is day one" has become my mantra.

But that is not the point of this post. What I really want to convey is how being in church lately has become almost bearable because what I've heard makes more sense to me now than when I heard it back in my choir days (it was the singing that kept me going back), even as an adult. In his books, Eckhart Tolle often interprets the words of Jesus in such a way that I can almost believe again, if not that Jesus was the son of God, at least that he sure had it goin' on. If you believe in what the Bible says, I encourage you to read A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose by Eckhart Tolle. You may get an enhanced perspective on what it means to be a follower of Christ.

If you don't believe but you're still searching for "the peace that passes all understanding," (Phillipians 4:7 and A New Earth, page 56) like I am, Eckhart says you can stop searching because you already have it in you to be at peace if only you will stop the thoughts in your head and be still. And the best part is you don't have to sit on a cushion with your back perfectly straight in the pretzel--I mean lotus--position for what seems like hours but is really only 30 minutes (not that I'm complaining)... in order to experience the stillness. All you have to do is ask yourself, "Am I still breathing?" That focuses your attention away from the voice in your head ("What voice?" you ask. "That one," Eckhard replies.) and puts it on your body. Beathing in...breathing out.

Live in this moment. Be at peace. And have a holly jolly Christmas.

Practice, Practice, Practice

My new spiritual practice is being put to the test.

I was getting pretty smug about how easy it's been to "stay in the present " or "be in the moment" or "live in the Now" as Eckhart Tolle says, but I was deluding myself. These days I come into contact with very few people on a daily basis, sometimes not even my hostess (in whose back yard I am parked), so of course life is easier, more enjoyable for me. In the past it's been the people in my life who made life hard, whom I perceived as the greatest obstacles to getting what I wanted. Perhaps it's been the same for you. Now, I'm on permanent vacation, enjoying beautiful fall days and communing with birds and chipmunks. No one demands that I come to a job (an obstacle to doing things I like), criticizes my work (an obstacle to my having high self-esteem), makes me wait for them beyond our appointed time (wasting my precious time that I could use doing something I like)...you get the idea.

The one person, however, who has been a constant in my life for the past 31 years and will be until the day I die, one of my greatest "obstacles," is my daughter, my only child. You remember, of course, that she is getting married in five days.

Well, something happened (it's not important what it was), and I have admitted to myself that she has a right to be upset with me. However, since I'm trying hard to stay in the present and not let my ego put me into defensive mode or even apologizing mode (so that I can feel superior for apologizing: you see how the ego as Eckhart decribes it can trap you?), I'm choosing to remain silent and just Be the Space for her issue--nothing else.

Fortunately, it is relatively easy to remain silent this time because the whole issue was presented to me by email from her two days ago. She chose that mode of communication rather than a face-to-face meeting or a phone conversation because, she said in the email, she was afraid she would cry through the whole thing. As a result of that choice, I have not had the opportunity to test my ability to remain present with her, and she has not had an opportunity to feel what that is like. Doesn't it take, if not eye contact, as least voice contact to Be Present? I thought of sending a reply email: "Okay." Or "Roger, wilco." But she didn't ask for a reply, either directly or by implication, so I didn't send one. Does my silence "speak volumes" and if so, what message has she received?

As you can tell, I have not "let go" of this yet. The night I got the email I struggled to focus on the present moment at least long enough to get to sleep. The past two days have been difficult, partly because I have not allowed myself to complain about it to anyone, which would have been one way I would have dealt with "problems with my daughter" in the past. Eckhart teaches that complaining is denying what is, thereby creating suffering for myself. It's also setting myself up as the one who is right as usual, by implication even if I don't give voice to it, and therefore superior to my daughter. I am right; therefore, she is wrong. He says my choices are to change the situation or thing about which I am complaining or, if that is not possible, accept it and move on. Of course, we all know we can't change another person, ergo...

Needing to be right has been my predominant modus operandi all my life, the thing I was led to discover in myself at a workshop in 1995. Since that time I have continually tried to be aware of my need to be right, and have attended other workshops on the subject. Eckhart Tolle's teachings have been the most helpful of all, perhaps because he offers a way to "do something" rather than just try to "be aware of" my behavior. Or maybe I'm just ready to receive the message, having simplified my life to the point where I can let it in.

Well, here I am talking about "problems with my daughter" again. Am I trying to justify the behavior by making it "instructive" for you, Dear Reader? I don't think so (at least, I hope not). Eckhart says, awareness of the behavior is enlightenment, a little pinch of it, anyway. That is the "doing" that he offers, the thing I cling to, the thing I am trying to share with you. I am focusing on becoming aware of my thoughts more of the time, on becoming the objective observer. My thoughts control my emotions; my emotions control my behavior.

How many times today have I said or done something in order to protect my oh-so-fragile ego? I'm letting it all go. Feeling my breath, moving in, moving out...in...out...that's the Present. The only place I can be. No worries. No fears. Just alignment with the energy frequency of the Universe. Aah...

What, Me Worry?

Remember Alfred E. Neuman from MAD Magazine? Heck, maybe you still read the rag that taught Roger Ebert how to be a movie critic (according to Ebert). My siblings and I used to have a blast reading MAD and sometimes making up our own mini-skits loosely based on something we read. That was around 1963 and MAD had already been in publication for nine years.

I don't know how or when I became a subscriber to Alfred E. Neuman's famous philosophy: "What, me worry?" The implication in Neuman's case was that he was too simple-minded to worry. Clearly, anyone with "a lick o' sense" would realize that the world is a horrible place and we need to be very afraid, every day in every way.

And so it follows that if we need to be afraid we also need to worry about all those things we are afraid of: everything from global warming, fluoridation of the water supply (I watched "Dr. Strangelove" again the other night), terrorists and burglars, to what might happen if we don't get that raise, or worse, what might happen if we get laid off, or lose all the money in our 401K. Then there are our children to worry about, and our significant others, or our lack of children and significant others. One of the Monty Python crew sings about being "worried about the baggage retrieval system at Heathrow" Airport.

Last week my daughter, my grandson and I were in the car when I heard Austin pipe up from the back seat, "Nanny, did you know there's going to be a flash flood? I heard it on the news." My daughter sort of laughed it off but I know my grandson, so I asked him point blank if he was worried and he said he was. I explained how his Chunns Cove neighborhood was about as safe a place from flash floods as anywhere in the county but I knew he wasn't convinced.

You see, Austin is a global worrier, a term I first heard from a previous boss who applied it to his ADHD son (Austin is also afflicted with the condition). People who are globally afraid must have very active imaginations because they worry about things like tall buildings falling down, events they have neither experienced nor even seen on television, and over which they have absolutely no control.

I know where Austin got it: from his mother. I once said to my teen-aged daughter, "I don't know how I got such a worried child: I never worry." She answered, "I know, that's why I have to worry for both of us."

One of the best definitions of worry I have heard is "negative goal-setting." Eckhart Tolle says that worrying is the ego's way of keeping us thinking about what might happen in the future rather than being fully present, in the Now, when everything is always perfect.

While eating my breakfast today in the RV, I happened to glance out the window and saw a chipmunk picking up some of the acorns that have bombarded me since I arrived in my friend's backyard a few weeks ago (thankfully, they have mostly stopped falling). What a cute little feller, no more than five inches long from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail. He scurried around, picked the acorn he wanted and stuffed it into his cheek. Then he stuffed another one in the other cheek. These acorns are large, about an inch long, so you can imagine what his little face looked like with two of them shoved into his little cheeks. Then he picked up another to carry with his front teeth and he ran off. A moment later he was back, minus the three acorns, and the process began again. Then another chipmunk ran onto the scene so I immediately dubbed the pair Chip and Dale after the Disney cartoon characters who used to harass Donald Duck with their nut gathering.

These two chipmunks never worry. They just do what has to be done to prepare for hard times. They never sit around thinking about what might happen if they don't pick up enough acorns. Sure, I realize they don't know any better; they don't have the capacity for thought and reason we humans have. But we would do well to take a page from their book. If there is something you can do to prevent whatever it is that worries you, do it. If it is beyond your control, don't think about it any more. Go out and pick up acorns, or rake leaves, and focus on the activity at hand, right now, in the moment. It's all there really is.

One With Nature

Monday, October 6, 2008

My RV is backed up into my friend Lula’s back yard here in Asheville. I am situated about a foot from a stand of bamboo and other trees and shrubs. Yesterday that put me about two feet away from a Hooded Warbler. Now, that might not mean much to you if you’re not a birdwatcher, but for me it was an exquisite moment of joy and connectedness.

I became a birder (actually I’m just a dabbler, not the serious birdwatcher that some folks are) somewhat by accident. When I bought my little house in north Asheville in 2003 I was gratified to find that I lived near Beaver Lake, and that the trail around the lake and through the bird sanctuary was the perfect distance for my daily 30-minute walk. One morning as I ended my walk in the parking lot of the bird sanctuary I stopped at the notice board and saw that the Elisha Mitchell Chapter of the Audubon Society hosts a guided bird walk on the first Saturday of every month. Well, since I was going to be walking at that time anyway, I decided to check it out.

I quickly realized on my first Saturday bird walk that my cheap binoculars were not adequate so I asked one of the birders (there were about 20 that day) about hers and she told me that particular pair cost about $300 (or was it $600?). Gulp. But she said I should go to KMart and get a pair for about $30 that would probably suffice. I did, and I’ve been looking at birds ever since, sometimes with a group, sometimes by myself.

I learned from birdwatchers that there are lots of different species of warblers that come through Asheville in spring and fall on their way to somewhere else. Some birders are what could be called “warbler snobs.” They will go anywhere, any time to see any species of warbler. To them all other birds pale in comparison. For me, even with my new and improved $30 binoculars, I had a hard time finding the often elusive warblers that others saw and pointed out to me. (”Look up there about 1:00 on the branch of that willow, just to the right of that dead oak. See it? It’s right there.” The good thing about birders is that they are infinitely patient with newbies: they want everyone to get the kick they get.)

So you can imagine my excitement when, upon hearing something land in the shrub next to the window of my RV, I looked out to see a beautiful yellow-breasted bird with a yellow and black head. I knew immediately that it was a warbler of some kind and I felt blessed indeed to be with it “up close and personal.” I could have reached out and touched it, and the reason it was not afraid to be so close to a human is that it couldn’t see me through the dark glass of my RV window. It looked around, hopped from one branch to another and back, while I held my breath. The entire encounter lasted about five seconds, and when it flew away I went immediately to my field guide to find that it was indeed a Hooded Warbler, common to the entire eastern half of the US, and probably on every Asheville birder’s list of birds they have spotted. Now I can say I “got” a Hooded Warbler.

I’ve had similar experiences many times since I’ve being living in my motorhome. While staying in the driveway of a friend in Chapel Hill, I awakened several mornings to find myself in the midst of a herd of deer. My present situation has afforded communion with several species of birds, and with three different neighborhood cats, none of which knew I was here. It’s as if I were just another creature on the planet, no different from any other, which is, of course, absolutely true. We humans usually can’t experience it because many of our fellow creatures are afraid of us.

It’s a lesson in stillness, really. Even if I were not hidden behind tinted glass, if I were to sit in the same spot long enough, and be totally still, I’m sure the same types of encounters would occur. When was the last time you sat still that long? Eckhart says awakening (his term for enlightenment) happens in the stillness. I’m cheating, here behind my dark glass. Maybe I’ll sit outside without my precious laptop and see what happens.



Mother of the Bride
October 2nd, 2008

Somehow I thought I would never have to be one of those women. My only daughter married her first husband before a judge. That didn’t work out and now she wants to marry her second with some ceremony. I don’t have a problem with that at all, but yesterday it came home to me in a big way that I am going to be attending the ceremony as the Mother of the Bride and I don’t have a costume!

I have given away and/or sold all my appropriate MOB clothes and shoes so that I could fit myself and my stuff into a Roadtrek 190 Popular, which doesn’t really matter because I didn’t have the right dress and shoes anyway. So yesterday I went shopping (ugh).

I started at two used/vintage stores in downtown Asheville and found nothing. Why is it that no size 16-18 dresses ever make it to these shops? So then it was off to Ross [Dress for Less]. I needed something so inexpensive that I wouldn’t mind paying for a dress I would wear only once. Fortunately, the selection was great! The only problem was deciding which style would please the bride: dressy/sparkly or tailored. I bought five outfits totalling $180 and took them to my daughter’s for approval

She liked all of them, which was gratifying to say the least, but not particularly helpful. We narrowed it down to the brown or the teal, both of them three-piece chiffon-ish numbers with glitter. Brown? I haven’t worn brown since 1973 but my daughter tells me it’s the “in” color; and besides, the glitter is gold/orange so it goes with the fall theme of the wedding.

Only problem, excuse me: challenge (thank you, Eckhart) now is the mother of the groom hasn’t bought her dress yet so I can’t make a definite decision until she does (something about her being concerned with having very few choices: I don’t know), and then I have to find some cheap shoes to go with the dress. Don’t you wish your life were this jam-packed and fun-filled?

Want to know what I’m looking forward to the most in connection with this wedding, besides seeing my Memphis siblings? Being in my daughter’s clean apartment. No one has seen her living room floor or kitchen counters in months. Exciting stuff.



Finding Peace in Nature
September 29th, 2008

Yesterday my friend Lula and I hiked up Roan Mountain to Jane Bald. When we reached our destination the elevation was about 6,000 feet. Unfortunately, we were in the middle of a cloud and couldn’t see anything of the surrounding view. But for me it didn’t matter one little bit. It was just so wonderful to be up there, wind and fog and all (and of course, I felt rather pleased with myself for making the hike as it was quite treacherous in places–and it was my first time on the Appalachian Trail!). I don’t know what the temperature was but I would guess it was about 50 degrees. With the wind it felt very chilly indeed.

Being one with the cloud and the mountain, the plants and the rocks, would not have meant so much to me if not for the work I have been doing with Eckhart Tolle, Elizabeth Lesser, Wayne Dyer and others recently, all through the wonder of the internet and the gift of Oprah Winfrey. Many spiritual teachers recommend getting in touch with the source of all being by going into the natural world. As Tolle says, you can connect with your consciousness by meditating on the microwave (I’m paraphrasing here) but it’s easier to get the message if you focus on a flower. The photo didn’t come out as well as I had hoped but if you look closely at the little red dots in the center, those are flowers growing out of a bed of moss and lichens (I think) clinging to a rock at 5,000 feet along the Appalachian Trail near Roan Mountain, NC, and I was there to witness them. I was so happy to be in the cathedral on the mountain rather than in the pew in town.















Eckhart Again
September 26th, 2008


I can’t seem to get enough of Eckhart Tolle. What an incredible teacher. If you have not read A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose run, don’t walk, to your nearest bookseller and get this book. When you have read it, go to Oprah.com and sign on to the ten sessions she did with Eckhart Tolle. With any luck, just reading the book will put you on a path that will change your life. Seeing Tolle with Oprah, and hearing questions others have, really brings it all home. This is how we can change the world. McCain can’t do it and Obama can’t do it, but you and I can, because we can contribute to the universal consciousness that will make it happen. Want inner peace? You have it already and Eckhart can help you discover the place in you where it resides.

Too “woo-woo” for you? Well, words always have been, and always will be, inadequate to describe the indescribable. I might have felt the same way not long ago, but when you are a seeker after truth or enlightenment or whatever you call it, and someone comes along who really can help you to see that you already have it, you pay attention, right?

This man is worth your attention. The world needs to wake up, and it happens one person at a time. Join us.



Stuck!
September 24th, 2008

There’s no gas in downtown Asheville! That is, if the one station I heard about on the news is now completely out. They made the news because three guys got in a fight and the police had to be called in! Sometimes life gets just a little too weird. I’m staying in a friend’s back yard and I have about 1/4 tank of gas so I guess I’ll just hang out for a few days. I can download old black and white movies from Netflix and work on my blog. Unfortunately, working on my blog is a big headache, literally, since I don’t know what the heck I’m doing.

See, what I really need to be doing, aside from keeping you informed of my whereabouts (it’s so boring I don’t know why you care) is finishing my pet portraits page so I can get it out there for people who might like to have a hand-drawn portrait of their special friend. My new business is called All In The Family: Pet Portraits by Lila, and you can see a sample of my work on my pets page. I’d tell you how to get to that page if I knew how. So many questions, so little brainpower. This is one of those times when I wish I were 30 again, or maybe 15 would be more useful, since it seems that the younger you are when you try to learn this stuff the better (maybe 5 would be even better).

How are you coping with the gas shortage? That is, if you’re in Western North Carolina. I guess folks outside our area are not experiencing this problem. Do you think there really is a shortage? Some don’t. Who knows? I’m just happy to be retired. I can be stuck for a while and it won’t matter. Good luck if you’re still having to make the commute every day.



Look at Me, I'm Blogging!
September 17th, 2008

To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world.
Dame Freya Stark, British Explorer, b.1883-d.1993

I told everyone I would keep in touch by weblog and I truly have wanted to keep my promise, but every time I sit down to write, my editor (we’ll call her Linda, after someone I used to know who now is trying to get beyond perfectionism and learn to let herself just BE) would tell me it was boring, or it was going to be boring (since I hadn’t even started), and so I would decide it was the wrong time of day, or the wrong place, or…well, you know.

Today all that ends. I beg your indulgence while I give it one more try. I hope you’ll be kind.

As you may know, I’m currently living in a 19-foot camper van, a Roadtrek 190 Popular to be specific, parked this week at Small Country Campground in Byrd Mill, Louisa County, Virginia, off I-64 between Charlottesville and Richmond. My handy-dandy indoor/outdoor thermometer says it’s 78 degrees inside and 75 degrees outside, but since I am pretty sure neither of those is accurate, let’s just say there is a slight drizzle falling and it’s not hot (hallelujah). I have a roof exhaust fan that is pulling a cool breeze in through the window behind me, so I am comfy cozy.
I’ve spent two months in my little shell, whom I’ve re-christened Sheila (Shell: Sheila—get it? Lila and Sheila—oh never mind), but I’ve hardly left NC, the first month having been spent in Asheville just getting the feel of things in the RV and learning to use all the new electronics I bought, all of which were totally new for me, and each of which came with its own two-pound manual, sometimes more than one and usually written in more than two languages.

(Linda: Well that’s not very interesting. Tell them something interesting.)

Shut up! Oops, sorry, not you. So anyway, here’s the thing: I want this big adventure to be something more than just a trip around the country in a camper. At first that was all I wanted and/or needed. My friends said, “Ooh, I want to come,” or “Gee, you’re brave to do that all by yourself,” and my chest would swell with pride and I’d feel really good about myself. But now that I’m out here, I want the trip to be more meaningful in some way; I just haven’t figured that part out yet.

Occasionally I think perhaps there is some “quest” that I could embark on, like finding the best vegan food in every state. You know, like they do with barbecue or whatever. I would be the secret vegan food critic, selling articles from the road to Vegan Magazine. Then I’d collect my oh-so-clever reviews into a book and become a famous food critic. And then I’d have my own show on the Food Network, and I wouldn’t let the fact that I know nothing about vegan cooking deter me, I’d learn as I go.

Or…I’d become a troubador, or is it a minstrel? Whatever. I would drive into the small town square in places where folks don’t have a lot of cultural events and set up my little show. I’d sing and tell stories and juggle, and kids would come by the dozens and bring their parents and grandparents, and they’d throw money and we’d all have a really good time. And I wouldn’t let the fact that I don’t play an instrument and I can’t remember the stories deter me, I’d learn to play the ukulele and make up the stories as I go along.

Or maybe I would just collect rocks…if I had a place to put them.

Well, that’s what I think about sometimes. Other times, I just want to go deeper into myself, in my solitude, in my little home on wheels, where I don’t have to perform in any way for anyone. Where life is simple and I don’t have to learn new tricks or remember any lines. Where the most taxing part of the day is remembering to unplug the RV before leaving the campground (I now have a list). I even bought Eckhart Tolle’s book A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose on CD so I could listen to it while I drive. I loved the book so I thought this would be a great way to have a constant reminder to be in the present. I’ve been on the road for two months and haven’t opened the package. What’s that about?

No, there’s something more I want to do. I just can’t put my finger on what it is. I discovered recently that my life must include service to others or I’m not fulfilled, but I can’t volunteer my time in the usual way when I’m in a new place every week (although I figure I can at least continue to give blood every eight weeks).

My need to serve, or be useful in some way, has been on my mind even more since I read Life Is a Verb: 37 days to wake up, be mindful, and live intentionally, by my friend Patti Digh of Asheville. It’s a very personal, reflective book but with such exquisite nuggets of truth for living that I know you will be as inspired as I have been. The premise: How would you spend your time if you knew you only had 37 days to live? The question is based on Patti’s true life experience following the death of her stepfather from lung cancer. I love the exercises at the end of each chapter: suggestions for things to do in order to live more intentionally, life being about action (definition of a verb, right?). Get your own book and have Patti sign it at Malaprop’s on September 20 (or maybe coming she’ll be in your town—see 37days.typepad.com for schedule).

So perhaps someone out there has some suggestions for how I can live intentionally, and in service, while I’m out here having the absolute time of my life! (Hey…who says simply having the time of my life isn’t allowed? Because it’s a totally selfish act? Hmm… Maybe it’s that first-born thing again…taking responsibility… Oh shut up, Linda)



My Itinerary
September 17th, 2008







July 12 – August 12: Wilson’s RV & Campground, Amboy Road, Asheville

August 12: Julian Price State Park Campground

August 13: Visited Blowing Rock, then Boone (looking for a car charger for my cell phone), spent the night at WalMart for the first time, in Winston-Salem (not too bad)

August 14: Toured Old Salem which I enjoyed because I like historical sites.

August 15: After spending the night at WalMart in Asheboro, I went to the Africa part of the North Carolina Zoo (the other part is North America). Since I’m not really fond of zoos, it was pretty much a waste of time: I was not impressed. Spent the night in the driveway of a B&B in Siler City (no charge; nice people; we went out to eat).

August 16: Went to Hillsborough to spend time with friends of a friend from Asheville who were full-timers in an RV for 3 years. Had a great week seeing the sights in Raleigh (Dead Sea Scrolls exhibit was great, as was the NC Farmers Market), Durham (Duke Gardens and Nasher Museum show of El Greco/Velasquez-era paintings) and Hillsborough. Also had my first experience contra dancing. Wow, what a workout!

August 23: Spent 3 days in Chapel Hill in the driveway of contacts through UU church. Spent an afternoon on Franklin St., main drag at UNC, saw a movie.

August 27: Spent time in Roseboro with my ex-husband’s cousin and his wife on the pecan farm they call The Nut House.

Sept. 2: Back to Hillsborough in another contact’s driveway one night

Sept. 3: Drove to Danville, VA, just so I could say I had left NC! Spent the night at WalMart, stayed all day

Sept. 4: Drove to Lynchburg where I spent the night at, you guessed it: WalMart.

Sept. 5: On the way to Charlottesville I saw the turnoff to Natural Bridge so I took it and had a good time touring the caverns, the natural stone bridge (wow) and the wax museum. Decided to head to Charlottesville on Blue Ridge Parkway (big mistake: it gets pretty monotonous after a while, and it’s very slow going) but got off at Sheronda Lake and found a campground.

Sept. 6: In the morning I was all set to leave when a ranger told me about the Museum of Frontier Culture in Staunton, so I went and it was very interesting. They have disassembled several really old buildings in Europe and brought them over here, where folks in period costume answer questions about what you see in the houses. The oldest was built in 1630! Then on to Charlottesville, finally, and past it about 30 miles to Small Country Campground in Louisa. The next day I visited Monticello, Thomas Jefferson's plantation, which was akin to a religious experience.

Sept. 13: Back in Asheville, after an overnight stay at WalMart in Roanoke, to help my daughter prepare for her Oct. 25 wedding.